What the Modern Woman Wants... By Amanda Chong
Wei-Zhen

The old woman sat in the backseat of the magenta convertible as itcareened
down the highway, clutching tightly to the plastic bag on her lap,afraid it may
be kidnapped by the wind.
She was not used to such speed, withtrembling hands she pulled the seat
belt tighter but was careful not to touchthe patent leather seats with her
callused fingers, her daughter had warnedher not to dirty it, 'Fingerprints show
very clearly on white, Ma.'

Her daughter, Bee Choo, was driving and talking on her sleek silvermobile
phone using big words the old woman could barely understand.'Finance',
'Liquidation', 'Assets', 'Investments'... Her voice was crisp andimportant and
had an unfamiliar lilt to it.

Her Bee Choo sounded like one of those foreign girls on television. She was
speaking in an American accent. The old lady clucked her tongue in
disapproval...... 'I absolutelycannot have this. We have to sell!' Her daughter
exclaimed agitatedly asshe stepped on the accelerator; her perfectly manicured
fingernails grippingonto the steering wheel in irritation.

'I can't DEAL with this anymore!' she yelled as she clicked thephone shut
and hurled it angrily toward the backseat.. The mobile phone hitthe old
woman on the forehead and nestled soundlessly into her lap. She calmly
picked it up and handed it to her daughter..

'Sorry, Ma,' she said, losing the American pretence and switchingto
Mandarin. 'I have a big client in America . There have been a lot
ofproblems.'
The old lady nodded knowingly. Her daughter was big and important.

Bee Choo stared at her mother from the rear view window, wonderingwhat she
was thinking. Her mother's wrinkled countenance always carried thesame cryptic
look. The phone began to ring again, an artificially cheerfuldigital tune, which
broke the awkward silence.

'Hello, Beatrice! Yes, this is Elaine.' Elaine. The old womancringed. I
didn't name her Elaine.
She remembered her daughter tellingher, how an English name was very
important for 'networking', Chinese onesbeing easily forgotten.

'Oh no, I can't see you for lunch today. I have to take theancient relic to
the temple for her weird daily prayer ritual.'Ancient Relic. The old woman
understood perfectly it was referring to her. Her daughter always assumed that
her mother's silence meant she did not comprehend.'Yes, I know! My car seats
will be reeking of joss sticks!' The old woman pursed her lips tightly, her
hands gripping her plastic bag in defence.

The car curved smoothly into the temple courtyard. It looked almost garish
next to the dull sheen of the ageing temple's roof. The old woman got out of the
back seat, and made her unhurried way to the main hall. Her daughter stepped out
of the car in her business suit and stilettos and reapplied her lipstick as she
made her brisk way to her mother's side.

'Ma, I'll wait outside.. I have an important phone call to make,'she said,
not bothering to hide her disgust at the pungent fumes of incense.The old lady
hobbled into the temple hall and lit a joss stick, sheknelt down solemnly and
whispered her now familiar daily prayer to the Gods. Thank you God of the Sky,
you have given my daughter luck all these years. Everything I prayed for, you
have given her. She has everything a young woman in this world could possibly
want. She has a big house with aswimming pool, a maid to help her, as she is too
clumsy to sew or cook. Her love life has been blessed; she is engaged to a rich
and handsome angmoh man.Her company is now the top financial firm and even men
listen to what she says... She lives the perfect life.
You have given her everything except happiness. I ask that the gods be
merciful to her even if she has lost her roots while reaping the harvest of
success.

What you see is not true, she is a filial daughter to me. Shegives me a
room in her big house and provides well for me. She is rude to me only because I
affect her happiness.. A young woman does not want to behindered by her old
mother. It is my fault. The old lady prayed so hard that tears welled up in her
eyes.Finally, with her head bowed in reverence she planted the half-burnt
jossstick into an urn of smoldering ashes.

She bowed once more. The old woman had been praying for her daughter for
thirty-two years. When her stomach was round like a melon, she came to the
temple and prayed that it was a son. Then the time was ripe and the baby slipped
out of her womb,bawling and adorable with fat thighs and pink cheeks, but
unmistakably, a girl. Her husband had ticked and punched her for producing a
useless baby who could not work or carry the family name.

Still, the woman returned to the temple with her new-born girl tied to her
waist in a sarong and prayed that her daughter would grow up and have everything
she ever wanted. Her husband left her and she prayed that her daughter would
neverhave to depend on a man. She prayed every day that her daughter would be a
great woman, the woman that she, meek and uneducated, could never become. A
woman with nengkan; the ability to do anything she set her mind to. A womanwho
commanded respect in the hearts of men. When she opened her mouth to speak,
precious pearls would fall out and men would listen. She will not be like me, the
woman prayed as she watched her daughter grow up and drift away from her,
speaking a language she scarcely understood.

She watched her daughter transform from a quiet girl to one whoopenly
defied her, calling her laotu, old fashioned.... She wanted hermother to be
'modern', a word so new there was no Chinese word for it. Now her daughter was
too clever for her and the old woman wondered why she had prayed like that.
The Gods had been faithful to her persistent prayer, but the wealth and success
that poured forth so richly had buried thegirl's roots and now she stood
faceless with no identity, bound to the soil ofher ancestors by only a string of
origami banknotes.

Her daughter had forgotten her mother's value. Her wants were soephemeral,
that of a modern woman. Power, wealth, access to the best fashion boutiques and
yet her daughter had not found true happiness. The old woman knew that you could
find happiness with much less.When her daughter left the earth, everything she
had would count for nothing. People would look to her legacy and say that she
was a great womanbut she would be forgotten once the wind blows over, like the
ashes of burnt paper convertibles and mansions.

The old woman wished she could go back and erase all her big hopesand
prayers for her daughter now that she had looked out of the temple gates. She
saw her daughter speaking on the phone, her brow furrowed with anger and worry.
Being at the top is not good, the woman thought, there is only oneway to go from
there – down.

The old woman carefully unfolded the plastic bag and spread out apacket of
beehoon in front of the altar. Her daughter often mocked her for worshipping
porcelain Gods. How could she pray to them so faithfully andexpect pieces of
ceramic to fly to her aid? But her daughter had her owngods too, idols of
wealth, success and power that she enslaved to and worshipped every day of her
life.

Every day was a quest for the idols, and the idols she worshipped counted
for nothing in eternity. All the wants her daughter had would slowly suck the
life out of her and leave her, an empty souless shell at the altar.The old woman
watched the joss stick. The dull heat had left a teetering grey stem that was on
the danger of collapsing.

Modern woman nowadays, the old lady signed in resignation, as she bowed to
the east bone final time to end her ritual. Modern woman nowadayswant so much
that they lose their souls and wonder whey they cannot find it. Her joss stick
disintegrated into a soft grey powder. She met her daughter outside the temple,
the same look of worry and frustration was etchedon her daughter's face.

An empty expression, as if she was ploughing through the soil ofher wants
looking for the one thing that would sown the seeds of happiness. They climbed
into the convertible in silence and her daughter drove along the highway, this
time not to fast as she had done before.‘Ma,’ Bee Choo finally said. "I don't
know how to put this. Mark and I have been talking about it and we plan to move
out of the big house. The property market is good now, and we managed to get a
buyer willing to pay us seven million for it. We decided we'd prefer a
cosier penthouse apartment instead. We found a perfect one in Orchard Road ..
Once we move into our apartment, we plan to get rid of the maid, so we can
have more space to ourselves....."

The old woman nodded knowingly. Bee Choo swallowed hard. "We'd get someone
to come in to do the housework and we can eat out – but once the maid is gone,
there won't be anyone to look after you. You will be awfullyl onely at home and,
besides that the apartment is rather small. There won'tbe space. We thought
about it for a long time, and we decided the best thingfor you is if you moved
to a Home. There's one near Hougang – it's a Christian home and a very nice
one."

The old woman did not raise an eyebrow. I"ve been there, thematron is
willing to take you in. It's beautiful with gardens and lots of old people to
keep you company! Hardly have time for you, you'd be happier there." "You'd be
happier there, really." her daughter repeated as if to affirm herself.

This time the old woman had no plastic bag of food offering to cling
tightly to, she bit her lip and fastened her seat belt, as if it would protect
her from a daughter who did not want her anymore. She sunk deep intothe leather
seat, letting her shoulders sag and her fingers trace the white
seat.

Ma, her daughter asked, searching the rear view window for hermother. "Is
everything okay?
What had to be done, had to be done. "Yes" she said firmly,louder than she
intended, 'if it will make you happy,' she added morequietly.

‘It's for you, Ma! You will be happier there. You can move there tomorrow,
I already got the maid to pack your things.' Elaine said triumphantly, mentally
ticking yet another item off her agenda.'I knew everything would be fine.'
Elaine smiled widely; she felt liberated. Perhaps getting rid of her mother
would make her happier... She had thought about it. It seemed the only hindrance
in her pursuit of happiness. She was happy now. She had everything a modern
woman everwanted; money, status, career, love, power and now freedom without her mother and her old-fashioned ways to weigh her down......

Yes she was free. Her phone butted urgently, she picked it up and read the
message, still beaming from ear to ear. "Stock 10% increase."Yes, things were
definitely beginning to look up for her and while searching for the meaning of
life in the luminance of her hand phone screen,the old woman in the backseat
became invisible and she did not see her in tears.